. Bonds of Choice #10 Star Wars: TPM FanFic Series by HiperBunny (message 4 of 4) +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ "I was angry at you, then guilty for being angry. No, more than that. Guilty for feeling that you were wrong to be harsh with me, as well. That old anger leads to suffering thing…I guess that's true," Obi-Wan whispered. "No, Obi-Wan. That's something different. This is not a question of how emotions can lead to the Dark Side. This is more about your own needs and expectations and how to see that they are fulfilled. It is my opinion that you are not emotionally fulfilled. The first thing is to find out what you want." Qui-Gon was trying to lead Obi-Wan gently, slowly. He wished he could just hand the whole thing to his student, but then the lesson would take many times longer to learn. It wouldn't be quick, no matter how they did it. "Do you mean, big picture, what do I want? I have no idea." "No, this isn't 'big picture' time. More like, right then, what would have been easier to take? What would have made you WANT to go meditate, rather than feeling shocked and angry then guilty?" Qui-Gon directed his gaze towards the window, letting Obi-Wan pause and consider what might be a totally new subject for the young man. "If you hadn't spoken roughly. It surprised me. It was a little upsetting, although I shouldn't have been upset. You were just a little more forceful than usual, is all…" "Stop. I do not want you making excuses for me or explaining away why you should not feel what you felt. It is what you felt. That is the end of it. If you do not like feeling that way, we will change what we need to for you to feel a way you would like to feel. But do not make excuses for people who hurt you. You have more important things to do with your mind." "Yes, Master." "That's lessons for now. I want you to go back to your most basic concentration techniques, making yourself more mindful of your emotions again. Controlling them has become second nature to you, of that I am very proud. However, you have developed this habit with anger and I'd like to see you work on it.". This was as much a part of Obi-Wan's training as his lessons in diplomacy. Qui-Gon was inwardly grateful of the fact that Obi-Wan would carry out his orders to the letter out of pure instinct at this point, even if didn't understand the whys behind it all just yet. "Yes, Master." "Also, I'd like for you to make special note if at any time you are doing something perfectly well, but for some reason think you ought to be doing better. In fact, I want you to check with me if at any time that happens. Understood?" "Yes, Master." "Good. Now, go put some clothes on so we can eat before the fishcakes get gooshy." Qui-Gon got up to set the table. "I forgot to tell you, but Master Crowe came by earlier. He wanted you to contact him," Obi-Wan brought their postponed lunch to the table. "I'll call him when we're done eating. Likely, we'll need to make our report soon." *********************** When Qui-Gon finally spoke with Kourt, he was struck by how tired his friend looked. He'd probably been awake for a day or so, but showed no signs of slowing. "Hi Quigs. Glad to see you up and about. I was hoping you'd stay out a little longer." "You look like you're the one who needs sleep, Kourt. But, sorry to say, my condition is sufficient to face the Council, so you'll have to get it together and arrange to be there when they call on me." Kourt sighed and looked at something beyond the vidscreen. "Yeah, okay. I-uh-wondered if you might be ready to come back into active service yet? I told Obi-Wan about the Group, so that's not a factor anymore." Qui-Gon scowled. "I thought we had an understanding about that." "Well, I had an understanding, and you had one, but I don't think they were the same understanding. I kept my end of it as long as I could. Look, things aren't going well. That Cord Random's a mess and his Padawan's worse. Young, undisciplined, poor instincts for this kind of work and…he bears watching and I can't deal with him AND Torlamin right now. Not to mention Corubia's state…I need your help, Master Jinn." Kourt sagged a bit and rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, okay. I get it. Besides, if Obi-Wan knows about your work already I won't be able to keep him away from you. New information draws him like…similes fail me." Qui-Gon checked the crono. "Get a good dose of tannins and be ready to deal with the Council. And I think Obi-Wan and I have some information about the Sith you might find interesting." "Bless you, Quigs. Information is one thing I'll never turn away." Kourt smiled. "Why don't we all get together and go over this before we deal with the Council. We'll probably have to give them an enemy they can understand. Again." "No, this one they should get right away. Sith. Kourt, Obi-Wan killed a Sith." Qui-Gon felt his stomach waver at the thought. *I wasn't there to protect him. * "I know. He brought the corpse back with him and the Sith's ship. I'm just looking over what the techs found there. Maybe we should go over that, put it together with what you and Obi-Wan found out. I was going to save the autopsy for later, but if you're serious about coming active again…" Kourt raised an inquiring eyebrow. Qui-Gon's stomach wobbled again. "Yeah, might as well go for the gusto. Elbow-deep in someone else's innards is NOT how I wanted to spend my afternoon." "Oh, come on Quigs. It'll be fun!" "This must be some use of the term 'fun' that had escaped my notice." ************************ Obi-Wan followed Qui-Gon towards one of the lesser-trafficked areas of the Temple. They walked slowly, mindful of the fact that Qui-Gon was still limping slightly on his damaged ankle. When asked, Qui-Gon had told his student they were going to the 'inner sanctum' and refused to elaborate. They wore clean workout clothes and near-identical grim expressions. Obi-Wan had been incredulous at the idea of performing an autopsy on the Sith. Qui-Gon had countered by asking just why Obi-Wan had brought the body home in the first place. "Well, I was kind of running on empty there, just following my instincts…oh." "Yeah, 'oh' is right. You were being guided by the Will of the Force, Padawan," Qui-Gon smiled. "But I wasn't even TRYING!" Obi-Wan wailed. "There is do or do not. There is no try," Qui-Gon quoted. "Since you 'did', I can find no fault with the fact that it took no effort on your part." "You do have a point there," Obi-Wan admitted. They reached a nondescript door in an out-of-the-way corridor. Qui-Gon pressed his thumb to the lock and said "Verify me." The door slid back, revealing a small, empty room. They entered, holding their arms away from their sides. The door closed behind them. A small camera descended from the ceiling, scanning them from all sides before stopping to hover at eye level with Obi-Wan. "Name," it requested. "Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi." "Voice Print." "Verify me." "Proceed." Before he could ask just where the heck they were supposed to go, a panel on the wall slid back, revealing a lift. Qui-Gon entered and Obi-Wan followed. The descent was rapid, ending at the head of a catwalk crossing over the Temple storage rooms. A long ladder-climb up and through a hatchway ended the journey as they emerged into a poorly lit room. Obi-Wan blinked in the low light, taking in strings of glittering chiplights. From the shadows came the voice of Master Kourt Crowe. "Welcome to the Dark Side." A cold hand closed around Obi-Wan's heart before Qui-Gon snorted. "Do you never tire of that joke?" "Nope. Kinda makes you regret thinking of it, huh, Quigs?" Kourt led them into a better lit room. Obi-Wan's eyes widened as he entered a world he had never suspected to exist within the neatly ordered walls of the Jedi Temple. Old sofas used to the point of terminal comfort lined the walls. Enormous cushions and pillows were arranged for maximum lounging and conversation. The biggest holovid unit he had ever seen dominated the far wall. The other walls were decorated with posters, paintings, quotations penned by an uneven hand…several hands, in several languages. One corner was a mess of data accessors. Vidscreen, dermal feed, hardcopy printer, enline to the Temple Library and, wonder of wonders, a patch-through to the Virtual Galacnet. A catering unit, supplied from skies only knew where delivered a pot of cav to the hotplate, though no one was waiting for it. A timer dinged and began counting down above the unit. *Cav on time-release. I've died and gone to…take your pick of paradise. This is IT. * Obi-Wan looked around for a mug and went to fetch himself a cup of liquid energy. "Obi-Wan, there are some people you need to meet. Some of them you already know. I won't swear you to secrecy, but I'm sure your discretion can be trusted, or I miss my guess." Kourt let the way through a low doorway beside the catering unit. "As I told you, we're officially unofficial…but then again, I'm unofficial in the extreme, so I guess you were expecting this." "Actually, no. You managed to catch me by surprise," Obi-Wan admitted. The next room was a laboratory that seemed to have grown into being, rather than designed. Beyond that, another room was filled with Jedi at work, for all that they slouched, lounged or dangled from any number of improbable positions. More sofas and cushions were here, as well as recliners, beds, pallets and meditation mats. A plethora of blankets, furs and pillows formed a thick detritus layer on the floor. There were several doors leading off in all directions, as there had been in the lab. Obi-Wan had the peculiar sense of being in the middle of a rabbit warren, or perhaps a maze of some sort. A yoga mat was being used by a Knight Obi-Wan recognized. Rendian Elan. Jenji and her master, Teril Ar'thapa were sitting cross-legged on a tabletop, passing hardcopy files back and forth. Swed and Jayden Hunter were curled up in a nest of velvet beanbag chairs, having apparently fallen asleep as they read over files on a lightslate. An unfamiliar face hung upside down by her knees, dangling from the upper reaches of a bunkbed. "Headache again, Felias? Well, come on down here and meet Obi-Wan," Kourt said. The woman executed a flip and landed shakily, a hand to her head. "So this is the one that kept Qui-Gon from us! Well, never mind, it was all for the best. Knight Felias Tradian, at your service. Though my services are going to be meager at best until this headache goes." Obi-Wan bowed to her. "Accessing again?" Kourt asked, concerned. "Nah, just on my fifth day of no sleep, and not an end in sight," she explained. "Maybe I can help," Obi-Wan offered. Pain lines were creasing her forehead and he felt compelled to offer assistance. "Dispelling exhaustion symptoms is one of my specialties." "You're more than welcome to try," she said, coming to kneel before him. Obi-Wan threw a glance at Qui-Gon, who merely nodded for him to continue. He was acutely aware that he had never tried to heal anyone but his Master before. Qui-Gon wasn't stopping him, though, and neither were the others. The room had gone quiet, and Obi-Wan focused his thoughts on the task before him. He settled his hands into the thick gray locks that framed her face, opened himself to the Force and began carefully reading her system. Fingertips traced her angular features, narrow lips, seeking tension or pain signatures. He located one, a knot of stresses behind and under her eyes. Gentle pressure applied just so and it relaxed. Felias sighed in relief, but Obi-Wan continued his search, rubbing tiny circles over scalp and neck, seeking any other sources of discomfort. There, in her spinal column, a subluxation putting pressure on the nerves. He took her head gently in his hands and popped one way, then the other. "Ahhh! Yes!" Felias smiled up at him. "You'd better get some rest, though. Let that set before you do anything too strenuous," Obi-Wan advised. "Yes. Go get some sleep in the back room. I'll bring you up to speed before you go take your shift with Torlamin. By the way, who's with Corubia?" Kourt asked. "Yoda. I asked him to keep an eye on her so I could be here," Jayden said, yawning and stretching. "I haven't seen Obi-Wan in a long time, but I knew him of old." He reached over and shook his Padawan. "Swed, look who's here." Swed opened one eye, surveyed the newcomer and rose slowly. Obi-Wan gave his old friend a careful once-over. Willowy now that he'd grown into his height, Swed's features were fine, looking as if he were slightly undernourished. In all the years they had been friends, Obi-Wan had never seen his friend look well-fed, though he ate like a Hutt. His body was of the whipcord-and-bone variety, uncommonly strong and graceful, even for a Jedi. With skin as pale as cream, eyes and hair black as jet, it was easy to see why Jenji had so often used him as a subject in her artwork. He was a peculiarity, as humanoid Padawans went, in that his hair hung long, brushing at his jawline. The reason was that members of his subspecies had hair as sensitive as whiskers and cutting it would have stunted the sensory input he received from that quarter. And then there was Jenji herself. "Hey kid. Glad to see you finally made it," she greeted. Shorter than Obi-wan by a good six inches, her body was nonetheless similar to his, compact, well-muscled and well-maintained. Her skin had darkened somewhat, making the contrast between her violet eyes and green stripe of hair all the more striking, exotic. Though she was older than Obi-Wan by three standard years, and Swed by four, they had been more or less on equal footing almost from the beginning. It suddenly occurred to Obi-Wan just how close to being Knighted his two friends were. Now that he thought about it, Swed was probably here at the Temple waiting for the Council to declare his Trials. Obi-Wan began to wonder just how equal his footing was with his elder friends. They came over to exchange hugs and thumb-clenches. "Come on, we'll show you around. Kourt said he had something he wanted to talk to Qui-Gon about, so we'll be thrown out of here soon anyway." Jenji hooked her arm through his and tugged him through yet another door. "Thrown out? Why?" Obi-Wan asked. "Because we're Padawans, duh," Swed replied. "They let us help some, because of our Masters, but, well…" "We can't choose for ourselves yet whether or not we want to do this, so some stuff we can't do at all. You have to be autonomous before you can play," Jenji explained. "And what are we now?" "Heteronomous. They still make the rules and we still follow them. It's not as bad as it sounds. We get a lot more leeway than anyone else our age," Swed looked Obi-Wan up and down. "You must really be coming along fast to be brought in so young." "I don't know. Probably. You know me. I never know what's going on in my training," Obi-Wan shrugged. "Yeah, that's what you get for being so goal-oriented, Obi. So is it true? Did you really whack that Sith?" Jenji asked. Obi-Wan swallowed loudly and looked at the floor. "Yeah. I had to. Qui-Gon went over the side of the canyon and…I didn't have a choice." Swed and Jenji pulled him in for another hug. "Poor Obi. Always getting the fuzzy end of the lollipop. And poor Qui-Gon, too. Just his luck to be on the mission when Torlamin went foomp. The Council should be dragged out and…well, someone should really try to do something about them," Jenji declared. "Nothing to BE done for them. They serve their purpose," Swed reminded her. "Whoa, guys. Those are some pretty strong words, there," Obi-Wan pulled back from them. "You'll soon see what we mean, Obi-kid. But that's not what we wanted to show you. It's cartoon time," Swed pushed Obi-Wan down onto the beanbags in front of the holovid and went to the catering unit for supplies. "Cartoons? Like, for children?" Obi-Wan asked incredulously. "Nah, like for us. You'll like it. I promise," Jenji picked up the remote. "We'll show you the rest of the place later." Swed returned with popcorn and drinks. Soon they were absorbed in the mindless slapstick comedy that gamboled about the holovid. They howled with laughter at the heroes, threw popcorn at the villains and tried valiantly to make Obi-Wan understand the basic plotline. He laughed and threw right along with them, though a basic problem with the premise nagged at the more logical portions of his brain. Finally he gave up and just enjoyed. Which might explain why Qui-Gon's mouth dropped open with shock when he came to fetch them. The theme music was blaring and all three Padawans were bouncing to the tune, shrieking the lyrics at the top of their lungs. "Mamma had a Chicken! Mamma had a Cow! Daddy was proud, he didn't care how!" "Obi-Wan?" "COW!" "Padawan?" "CHICKEN!" "KENOBI!" "COW AND CHICKEN!!!!" The music cut out abruptly, leaving Qui-Gon to shout into the now-quiet room. "WHAT ARE YOU…ahem. What are you watching?" Obi-Wan blushed from head to toe. "Uh, Cow and Chicken?" "A program on animal husbandry?" "No." "I see," Qui-Gon grinned, meaning he didn't. He looked pleased to see Obi-Wan fooling around, though. "I hate to interrupt, but if you think you can handle the culture shock, I could use your help with some research. All of you are needed, in fact." Jenji switched the Holovid off with a grumble and they followed Qui-Gon back into the lab. "Yuck," she correctly assessed. Obi-Wan had to agree. Darth Maul had not gained any beauty points by being halved and frozen. Kourt had on a pair of microsight goggles and was carefully inspecting the edges of the cut. "Come here, Padawan Kenobi. I want you to have a look at this and tell me what you think." Obi-Wan pulled on a pair of micros and came over to look. The exposed flesh was not cauterized, as one would expect from a Lightsaber cut. Rather, it seemed to have simply parted at the cellular level, allowing the Kho'la'bo to pass through. Or some such. There was almost no trauma to the tissue, as if it had grown this way and simply stopped. Or… "That's not possible," Obi-Wan breathed. "Actually it is. We might be able to explain it if we knew what he was, but…we're missing a lot of data here," Jayden explained. "What's our best guess?" Obi-Wan asked, reaching for a slide and a scalpel. "Aesthetically speaking, maybe Zebrakian. That's pretty doubtful, though. Hell, the DNA test came back part TaunTaun, so whatever the hell he is, it's funky." Obi-Wan pushed his goggles back to look at the hardcopy Swed brought him. "What's this?" Obi-Wan pointed to a chemical signature. "I know this from somewhere." Jenji came and took the pages, then began searching on one of the datasets on a nearby table. "Swed, see if you can find…" "Regenerative properties in Zebrakians, TaunTauns etceteras, etceteras, I'm all over it, boss." Qui-Gon was hanging over his shoulder as he slid the tissue sample under the chemical scan. "Scratch that, Jenji. I see what it is. Look for all reported research on genetic melding in clone subjects," Obi-Wan called. "Roger, Roger." //Obi-Wan?// **Hmm?** //What are you doing?// **Research.** //Oh yes. I had forgotten…well, let me know if you find anything interesting. Um, did you pick anything…useful out of Maul's mind?// **This is an abdominal sample, Master.** //Before he died.// **Oh. Yeah, one or two things. Maybe you could try to make sense of them?** //Show me.// Obi-Wan turned from the chemical scanner and took Qui-Gon's head between his hands. He called up the stolen information from two days before and made very clear projections into his Master's mind. They were next to nothing. Two star maps, poorly labeled. One name, Darth Sidious, with a few snatches of a face, a robe, a phrase or two spoken. The view of a Coruscant skyline, along with a strong surge of many chaotic emotions. That was all. //Thank you.// Qui-Gon stepped away to let Obi-Wan continue his work.